


you say it best when you say nothing at all

by Ness09



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Afterlife, Eddie is dead for a while too, Fix-It, Love Confessions, M/M, Stan is still dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-21 07:31:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20689799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ness09/pseuds/Ness09
Summary: Eddie dies without telling Richie how he feels and Stan is not having it





	you say it best when you say nothing at all

„Richie, I have to tell you something.”

He was going to do it. He was brave, braver than he ever felt, and Richie needed to know, before… The feeling in his limbs had gone and with it the pain. He was aware of the blood filling his lungs, only because it was so damn hard to breathe.

“Yeah, buddy?”

Richie looked at him like… It was _that_ look again. Eddie knew it well enough, having lost sleep over it so many times. He remembered Richie looking at him like that when they were all alone down in the clubhouse or when they snuck out late at night while everyone else was asleep. It was a look that always made him wonder, if maybe Richie knew. A look, he’d thought he’d never forget. He’d been wrong about that.

But it was slightly different now. Instead of soft eyes, he was looking into fearful eyes, and right then Eddie realized two things. One, Richie knew, had probably always known, and two, he was going to die. His time was running out and if Richie knew anyway, he at least wanted to see him smile one more time, make him laugh one more time. He could never get enough of that laugh.

“I fucked your mom!”

Richie’s jacket was still in his hands, but his fingers had lost the strength to hold on to it. _Don’t lose it. _It was wet and dirty and smelled like sewage, but underneath all that it was still warm, it was good. He couldn’t lose it. He was so concentrated on keeping it, he didn’t hear his friends shouting in the distance, didn’t notice Richie leaving his side and then…

Suddenly he didn’t feel so bad anymore, and it wasn’t dark and wet and cold. This wasn’t a cave at all, he saw, or rather, he didn’t see. There was nothing, just bright light and nothing. It was oddly soothing, even if there was a nagging thought in the back of his mind that this might be one of It’s tricks.

No. No, it wasn’t. Richie wouldn’t let It, Richie would protect him. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, finding he could do that again without his chest hurting, without the blood in his lungs bubbling. He breathed out, no blood foaming in the corners of his lips.

“Are you going to just lie there?”

His eyes flew open, but there was still just vast nothingness around him. That voice. It was kind of familiar, but Eddie couldn’t put a name or face to it. Slowly and without sitting up, he looked around himself. Maybe… He could feel someone watching him now, but other than a faint shadow near his feet, there was no one.

“Are you going to stop me?”, he asked the shadow.

If he wanted to just lie here and not be scared, he damn well would. He’d been scared for the last three days and now he didn’t have to anymore. It couldn’t get him here, he was sure of that now.

His hand fumbled over his chest, searching for something, even if Eddie couldn’t remember what. He only felt the fabric of his shirt. Had he lost it? _Lost what? _ Something… He’d held something in his hands, he remembered, but what?

“If that’s what you want to do, I can’t stop you”, the voice said. The familiarity of it... Eddie was so close to identifying it. The name was on the tip of his tongue. “But knowing you, I’d thought you’d be a bit more upset about dying.”

“Dying?”

At once, he sat bolt upright. The shadow had gotten a lot denser now. It wasn’t a real, physical person, but Eddie knew who it was now, who was talking to him. Although he couldn’t see Stan clearly yet, he felt like Bev had been right all those years ago. _You look like you, but taller. _

“Stan.”

Shadow-Stan knelt in front of him, smiling sadly. “Sucks to meet again like this.”

“I’m dead?”

Now that he mentioned it, he remembered being in pain and cold and being so tired. That must have been it.

“Looks like It got you.” He touched the front of Eddie’s shirt, but the tips of his fingers went right through. Despite being unable to feel it, Eddie shivered. There was a lot of blood on his shirt. It got him. It got him good.

Eddie looked at the emptiness around him instead. The bile was already rising and if he looked at the stain a little longer, he was sure to throw up all over Stan. Not the best greeting for an old friend. Richie would find it funny though. He would laugh so hard if Eddie told him, a full belly laugh. A good Richie cackle was what he wanted right now.

“What is this place?”

Stan shrugged. “Something that comes after life.”

“And this is it?” What a fucking disappointment. Sure, this was nice and warm and safe, but he’d take the stupid, disgusting clown cave over this. If he wasn’t already dead, he’d be sure to die of boredom.

“No, I suppose there’s something after this too.” Stan brushed a curl out of his face and Eddie noticed the cut on his wrist. Wide open and bright red at the edges but no blood. Stan noticed him staring and pulled his sleeve over it. “Sorry, I keep forgetting it’s there.”

“Why?”

“It’s…” He started but stopped himself. Had he really been that scared of It that he’d rather kill himself than face it again? Part of him could relate, he’d been ready to die when Stan’s head had attacked them, he would’ve let Richie die. “Eddie, why aren’t you mad?”

“Mad?”

“The Eddie I know wouldn’t take his death like that. I chose this, you didn’t.”

“Would it make a difference if I was mad?”

As far as he knew death didn’t give a shit if you were ready for it or not, it just came. And what was he supposed to do? Scream at Stan or into this empty space? There wasn’t even anything he could kick, and now that Stan mentioned it, he really wanted to kick something.

“Are you happy with the life you had?”

What was this? Was Stan going to tease him about Myra too now? “Are you?”, he asked defensively.

“Yes. All in all, I had a good life, a really good one.” Stan reached out again, his fingers still translucent but this time Eddie felt it, when he touched his knee. “Thanks to all of you.”

“Then why did you…”

Stan shook his head. “Do you feel the same way? Did you do the things you wanted to do? Did you say everything you had to say?”

_Don’t lose it._ He’d been holding something, something he couldn’t lose. Something that felt like home, something that he needed to hold on to. His fingers curled, but there was only air.

“I don’t know.”

The urgency in Stan’s eyes told him, he didn’t have much time, but he’d never thought that the dead could be pressed for time. What was there to do? Race to the next death?

Stan smiled, his hand was getting heavier on Eddie’s knee. He could now see the shadow of a beard on Stan’s chin, could see the lines around his eyes that were proof of his happy life. He was almost real now.

“Think. Are you happy to leave it all behind?”

_Richie, I have to tell you something._ He gasped. Richie. His fingers curled again, this time feeling the fabric between them. Richie’s jacket. Pressed to his chest. _You’re braver than you think. _But not brave enough to tell him. _Because I want to run towards something._ All his life he’d run away. Away. Away. And never gotten anywhere.

“Eddie…”

“No!”

When he looked down, Stan’s hand was still there, but it had lost its colour. His silhouette was starting to blur, but his smile was still there. His eyes were still watching him carefully.

“Stan, no! I have to… I can’t…”

“It’s time to go, Eddie.”

No! He couldn’t die! He couldn’t leave, not without telling Richie. It didn’t matter that he _knew_, he needed to say it. It wasn’t fair. He’d only just remembered them all and now he was supposed to leave them? To leave Richie?

A sudden pain in his chest made him gasp. His fingers tightened around Richie’s jacket and he pressed it to the pain as if that would help. Why did this hurt? Wasn’t he already dead? Being dead shouldn’t hurt, when the whole journey here already hurt like a bitch.

“Stan, what’s…?”

“Don’t be scared. I’ll be here as long as I can.”

“What do you mean? Don’t leave me!”

He didn’t want to be alone again. Most of his life he’d been alone. He hadn’t minded that, some people were just meant to be loners, losers. But now that he remembered, remembered it hadn’t always been like this, that it didn’t have to be like this, he couldn’t give up on that.

The pain came back, making him crumble. Breathing was getting harder now, every inhale accompanied by rattling in his lungs, every exhale leaving him with the coppery taste of blood in his mouth.

“Stan, it hurts”, he cried, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I know.” Stan’s voice seemed to come from far away now. Hadn’t he promised to stay? He couldn’t see him anymore and the light was way too bright, so he closed his eyes, using all his strength to keep breathing through the pain that was getting unbearable now. He didn’t remember it hurting this much.

“Now don’t forget again. Promise me, you won’t forget, Eddie.”

“I…” It was hard forming words, when he was trying not to scream in agony. “I promise, Stan.”

But he wasn’t there anymore. It wasn’t something he had to see to know, he just couldn’t feel him anymore. All he felt was pain, so overpowering he almost didn’t notice the soft beeping noise, other voices speaking incomprehensible gibberish then shouting. He still couldn’t understand it, but he definitely heard that. Felt someone grasping his hand, someone stroking his forehead.

When he opened his eyes, it was still so bright. It was the same space and it wasn’t. This one was not calm and safe and soothing, this one was… real.

“Eds!” A voice said. This one he recognized immediately, but he still couldn’t see with all this light. “Eds, can you hear me?”

The pain in his chest slowly faded to a dull, bearable pounding. It still hurt, but it didn’t take over all his senses.

“For fucks sake, give him something for the pain already!”

“It takes a moment to kick in. I need you to calm down, Mr Tozier, or I’ll have you escorted out of the room. The patient needs rest.”

No. He squeezed the hand that was holding his. _Don’t go. Don’t leave me. Stay. _

“Eds? Eddie?”

His mouth was not working, it just couldn’t form the words Eddie wanted to say, so he groaned instead. _Yes. I’m here. _

His eyes started to adjust to the light. Hospital. He knew hospitals too well, knew the smell, knew the look of them. And there he was. Looking like death. Well, actually, he’d seen death and it didn’t look like this at all. Richie looked more like he’d fought a supernatural killer clown and lived. He was looking at him like _that_ again. Only now Eddie knew what it meant, and he tried to look like _that_ right back. _I love you. I love you. I love you._

“Holy shit, Eddie”, Richie breathed, leaning forward and bringing their foreheads together. “I thought I fucking lost you!”

“N-never.”

“Huh?” Richie leaned back. “What was that?”

_Promise me, you won’t forget, Eddie._

“I… I…” The words got stuck in his throat. When he coughed, he could see fireworks of pain again, but then there were strong hands on his shoulders, pushing the pain back before it could take over.

“Don’t speak, Eddie. It’s okay.”

He shook his head. He had to. He’d waited so long, too long. It had to be now. “Richie… I… I love you.”

Why had he never said it before? It was only three words, and he knew, he knew that Richie _knew._ Now that it was out there it seemed utterly ridiculous that he hadn’t said it before. He wanted to say it again. “I love you.”

“Eds…”

He squeezed his hand again.

And then Richie was kissing him. Soft and tender like no one had ever kissed him before, with great care not to hurt him and was if they had all the time in the world. It was a bit aggravating, really, because Eddie wanted to run his fingers through his hair, wanted Richie on top of him, wanted more pressure, wanted to taste him, but Richie was being so careful with him. People had been careful with him before, but not like this, not out of love.

Richie didn’t have to say it, because just like Richie had known, Eddie had known too. He didn’t have to put it in words, when it was in every touch, in every kiss, in his eyes, in the tears rolling down his cheeks. _IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou._ And Eddie looked back, smiled back, unable to say more, but saying it all just the same

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @itchierichie


End file.
